This Could Be Love
by Blood-Red-Porcelain
Summary: She was an ordinary girl. She thought she was strong. She thought she take what life could throw her way. He showed her just how wrong she was. Now she has to fight to come out alive as she falls in love and in hate with Gotham's most notorious villian.
1. Prologue

_He stepped into the tiny circle of light provided by the dusty old bulb, revealing a face that was all too familiar to the woman on the floor. Two long scars decorated his painted face from the corners of his mouth to almost his cheekbones, giving him a permanent smile, accentuated by a smear of red lipstick._

_She knew his face and the name attached to it escaped from her trembling lips as he approached._

_"Joker," she whispered._

_He grinned as he knelt on the floor in front of her. "No, no, sweetheart," He said, pulling a knife from his pocket. "That's my name, I'm looking for yours."_


	2. First Meeting

Disclaimer: I do not own batman...at all... not even a little bit...

A/N: This is my first fic, so please be nice. : ) Please?

--

Her hand flew to the silent-alarm, fidgeting underneath the counter top until she found it. She pressed the button just in time --seconds later she was being pulled over the counter by a masked thug and landing hard on the marble floor.

There were too many. They were moving too fast, but from what she could tell there were...4?...no, 5. The one who had pulled her over the counter now had a gun pointed towards her and several other employees as well as customers. Someone was screaming; '_Hands up! On your knees_!' and...wait, make that six, but this one's not wearing a mask.

A man had walked into the bank, one hand holding a shot gun, the other stuffed into the pocket of his shabby purple coat. He wore no mask but his face was, by far, more terrifying than any of the twisted masks the other thugs wore. Two long scars ran from the corners of his mouth to almost his cheekbones, giving him what looked like a permanent smile. A twisted grin crept across his features as he observed the chaos around him. This grin was one that all of Gotham recognized as belonging to The Joker.

His grin faded slightly before growing twice as big. "Why so serious?" he asked. "We're just here to play"

No one dared to answer. "You're no fun" he proclaimed mockingly. He turned as if to leave, or maybe go torment someone in the opposite direction, but paused mid-step. "Oh, and, to whoever just pulled the silent-alarm, I wouldn't wait to long for those...cops, to come and save the day" And with a laugh he continued about what he had been doing.

The girl reached into her pocket. From the sound of things they had disconnected the silent alarm. Her eyes darted around the room; masked thugs were running about, some tugging bags of cash, others trying to get the frightened citizens to '_Shut the hell up or I'll blow your damn head off!_' Several crying children. Several crying adults. The Joker was across the room waving a knife in the face a little old lady, apparently trying to explain to her 'the funny side'. No one was looking. She pulled out her cell phone.

Her fingers trembled and pressed the first button.

_9_

Her eyes scan the room again. Still clear. She hit the next button.

_1_

Her eyes flickered up once again as she pressed the last button.

_1_

Across the room the little old lady was bleeding on the floor, and The Joker was walking in long strides towards the girl with the phone in her hand. She pressed the cell phone to the side of her face. The moment the operator picked up she started speaking quickly in a hushed tone;

"HellomynameisMonica,IworkattheBankofGothamCity.There'sarobberytakingplacehereweneedhelpnow!!"

That was all she got to say before The Joker snatched the phone away from her and flung it across the room were it crashed into a wall, and broke. He grabed her by both of her wrists and pulled her up from the floor. She stood inches apart from him.

"Hello, Beautiful" he sneered. His face was close enough to kiss her... or maybe spit in her eyes, whatever the situation called for. "What's this? Trying to be the hero?" He leaned closer as he spoke.

Monica's eyes darted around, looking for something, anything, to distract her from the killer whose own eyes were only inches from hers, scanning her face as his grin grew wider. Her eyes had setteled on the corpse of the old woman.

"What's wrong, Beautiful?" He asked as he twisted is head to follow her line of sight. "Oh, her," he turned back towards Monica. "She... couldn't see the funny side." He laughed as he let go of one of her wrists and reached into his pocket. His other hand moved quickly from her wrist to grab her throat. "But you," he paused as he drew the blade from his pocket. There was blood already on it. "You look like someone who can take a joke." He waved the blade in front of her face.

Monica's eyes had finaly focused on The Joker. Her jaw tightened and she spoke through clenched teeth. "I don't have to be afraid of you."

The Joker burst into hysterics. "Oh, and what if I said you were wrong?"

The room had gone silent save for The Joker's laughter and, Monica realized for the first time, sirens in the distance, slowly growing louder. The Joker had barely stoped laughing when one of his masked men aproached and said "That's all of it, boss" The Joker looked up and nodded.

"Well," He leaned forward and his lips brushed hers for half a second. "Guess I gotta go. Bye-bye, Beautiful. Wish I could stay to play longer." And with that The Clown Prince of Crime grinned and drove his blade up to the hilt into her gut. She gasped and dubbled over in pain as The Joker strolled out of the bank.


	3. Waking Up

**Disclaimer: Monica is mine, Leann is mine. Everything else is most likely copyrighted to either DC comics or Christopher Nolan.**

A/N: Thanks soooooo much to everyone who reviewed for the last two chapters. I love you guys :)

--

_Oh God, it's so bright... am I dead? Is this heaven? Strange, I always thought that heaven would be more... animated. That there would be more...movement... more sound...all I hear is...is...what- what is that?_

The heart rate monitor let out a loud string of beeps following the same rhythm for hours since Monica had been wheeled out of OR and into the recovery unit.

"Where am I?" She asked groggily.

"Holy Hell, you're alive!!" Shrieked a now delighted brunette.

Monica looked up at the woman sitting next to her bed. Leann had been her best friend for countless years. It wasn't exactly shocking to see her there.

"Not quite as informative a response as I'd hoped" Monica commented sarcastically, "But, yes! Apparently I'm alive!"

"Oh!" Leann grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Umm... You're in the hospital...you got stabbed in the gut by a psychopathic, remember..."

Monica's eyes widened as memories flooded her mind.

_It was tuesday afternoon. A regular day at work, when men with guns rushed in...she hit the alarm...the alarm...the alarm didn't work?...why didn't it...she was being pulled over the counter...landing on the floor...the floor was hard...and cold...and...a man...he had scars...he was...who was he...The Jester?...The...The Joker? Joker! The Joker...He was walking in...he had a gun...a gun!? oh no, someone hit the alarm!!...but...the alarm doesn't work...he was talking...what was he talking about...the alarm?...they had disconnected it...that's why it didn't work...she was dialing for help...9...1...1...she was talking...The Joker...the was threatening an old woman...the old woman was dead...her phone...Joker had taken her phone...where was her phone...flying...hitting the wall...it was broken...she was standing...he was so close...talking...laughing...a kiss...and...her stomach hurt...she was falling...she couldn't breathe...she couldn't...she couldn't..._

"MONICA!!"

She snapped back to reality. She was gasping for breathe. Leann was screaming at her. Screaming for a nurse.

"I'm...I'm o-okay...I'm okay" she gasped.

A wave of relief washed over Leann's face. "Thank god! I though you were dying"

Monica smiled sheepishly "No...just...having an episode..."

Leann rolled her eyes. "You sure you're okay? You gave me a bit of a scare."

"Yeah, I think I'll be fine, I just need--"

At that moment a nurse rushed in cutting her off completely. "Oh, are you okay, deary? Here, here, let me see, where does it hurt? Can you breathe okay?" The old woman was at her bedside now, doing everything from checking the heart rate monitor to fluffing the pillows to, now, preparing to give her a needle.

"Now listen here, deary, I'm going to give some more painkillers, okay? They'll take the pain away but they may make you a little drowsy. Do you understand?" The old nurse asked her in a sweet voice.

Monica looked at her. "umm... yeah, I guess" She closed her and waited for the slight sting of the needle. Five minutes later she opened them. The nurse was gone.

"What happened, I thought she was gunna give me a needle?" She asked.

Leann raised a brow, scrutinizing her friend. "She did" Leann said flatly. "About five minutes ago. Didn't you feel it? I thought you had fallen back asleep. They must have you on so many drugs you can't feel a thing."

"Oh" Monica whispered, embarrassed.

"It's okay" Leann said, smiling again. "Your probably lucky if you can't feel it."

"Yeah." Monica agreed. "Your right as usual."

"Since when am I usually right?" Leann asked. "That's your job. don't you remember when we were kids? You were the smart one."

"And you were the cute one." Monica said laughing.

"Of course!" Leann said jokingly.

The girls laughed and the sounds of a friendship as old as time rang through out the halls of the infirmary. But they're laughter was short lived for within moments a stabbing pain cut across Monica's abdomen and she inhaled sharply.

"Oh! Are you okay? Leann asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm alright...I guess I still have some feeling." Monica reassured her friend.

"I could call the nurse again." Leann offered.

"No!" Monica said. "I think I'm drugged-up enough. But thanks anyway."

Leann nodded and the room fell silent.

"Umm... so..." Monica began after a few minutes. "Where did you say he..." She hesitated, "Uh, stabbed...me?"

Leann looked up. "Just above the kidney"

Monica's hand moved reflexively to the wounded area. "...wow" Was all that she could say.

"Yeah," Leann moved her hand to her own abdomen. "Right here!" she poked herself. "They said you had internal bleeding--Nasty stuff, that is." She shuddered. Her voice fell to a whisper. "They said it could have killed you..."

Monica looked up at her friend. "I think that was the point," she said with a grimace.

The silence returned, filling all the available space. The only sound was the beeping of the heart rate monitor.

Leann opened her mouth to speak but hesitated. She seemed almost afraid to break the silence. Finally she whispered, "Can I ask you something?"

Monica looked intently at her friend, "Shoot," she said.

"I heard...I heard that you...stood up to him...That he got mad because you called the cops..." she trailed off.

"Yeah. You didn't expect him to be happy bout that did you?" Monica asked.

"No.. I guess not." Leann mummured.

Monica didn't understand what the girl was getting at. "I don't understand, Leann. What are you talking about?"

Leann's eyes were dark and filled with worry. "I heard...he...kissed you..."

Monica's eyes widened. "What! Hardly! I mean...well...yeah...but he...only for half a second! I-I...what?"

Leann lowered her eyes. Her friend looked offended. "Sorry...I'm just, worried about you."

"What does that have to do with anything?!" Monica demanded. "He was inches away from me!! He probably did it by accident!! He tryed to kill me!!"

"I'm sorry" Leann began in an apologetic tone. " I didn't want to offend you... I'm just worried is all...you were stabbed by a madman after all... and he killed that old woman too..."

"Do you think he kissed her too? While know one was looking, maybe?" Monica asked sarcasticly.

"Monica," Leann began now sounding almost annoyed.

Monica was getting drowsy and rapidly loosing interest in the argument. Apparently the medication was taking effect. "It's okay. You don't need to be worried for me. I'm okay now... mildly overmedicated, but okay." She grinned.

Leann laughed softly at her friends joke. "Thanks... I was just... worried.. you know, technically, I think that counts as sexual assault." Leann said.

"Oh, wonderful! I'll have to tell my grand-kids that one someday." Monica said, rolling her eyes.

They both laughed slightly as the arguement became almost a joke. But Monica was tired and didn't have the energy to be talking to her friend much longer. Just before she fell asleep Monica asked her friend one last question.

"Hey, don't they normally only let family in here? How'd you get in?"

Leann smirked. "I fibbed," She giggled.

"Said you were my sister?"

"Said I was your wife."


	4. Scream In Your Dreams

**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!**

A/N: This is a look inside one of Monica's nightmares. Have fun!

**--**

Even in spite of the lighter tone her day had ended on, no amount of happy times could hope to spare her the flurry of nightmares that were inevitable in light of recent events. It took seconds for the onslaught of horrors to come flying at her as soon as she had slipped out of consciousness.

Monica stood at the edge of the world and everything around was falling. The sky came crashing down into the earth and a shower of debris was sent flying in every direction. Shards of some impossibly broken thing were sent rocketing past her. Every second could surley have been her last. Fire licked at the foundation of a million different buildings. Even stone structures threaten to collapse under the raging heat. Wind and rain blew in from every direction but did nothing to stop the flames. Monica looked on in horror as the world around came undone. She turned away from the chaos and much to her suprise rather than more distruction she was that the behind her was still untouched by the Armageddon that threatens to reduce the world to a pile of ashes. She ran towards the safe region but as is the way with all nightmares the cruel chaos tore across her path eradicating her escape route. She turned away there was once again a safe escape and once again she could not make it. Monica fell to the ground and tears streamed down her face. She screamed at the top of her lungs but no one could hear her. There were already people screaming. she looked up to try to find the source of the noise and once again her surroundings had changed. She found herself on the floor of a very large and crowded room. All around her there were people screaming but she could hardly here them. There was someone whispering but she couldn't understand the words. The sound filled her ears. Then she heard footsteps almost as loud as the whispers and the a man was talking and the sound was deafeningly loud but still the words made no sense. She looked around the room trying to find the source of the sounds but nothing made sense. There were shapes everywhere that she couldn't tell apart from each other. The voice grew louder. Her ears hurt from the sound of it. She had to find the source of it and make it stop! She was running through the crowd and she could her voices ringing out in hushed tones and luagther. A deafening laughter that made her ears hurt. She wanted to scream and to cry and to fall down and pray to make it stop but the laughter only grew louder and louder and the sound of it threatened to devour her. She pushed past people until she was in the open once again. And there she saw sonething. A man and a woman stood inches apart. He held her by the throat as he waved a blade at her face. He was laughing at her. And then... everything was clouded and hazy and the commotion began again. The man was gone. Where had he gone? The girl was on the floor and the sounds of laughter had been replaced by the sound of her rapid gasping breathes. Monica stared at the girl. Then as the girl looked up from under a sheet of blonde hair, precisely the same color as Monica's and looked into Monica's blue eyes which were the same color as the girls eyes, everything fell into place and Monica understood. A blood curtleling scream passed through her lips and felt herself falling. And suddenly everything was dark again. There was nothing but darkness and nothing to fear but Monica was still screaming and she couldn't understand why. It was then that she realized that she was in pain. And that there was more than total darkness. There was a pin point of light somewhere on the horizon. She ran for it and as she got closer the light became brighter the pain began to fade and so she continued to run. But once she was within reach of the light it grew dark again but the light had not gone away. Something had blocked it. And then the laughter began again...

Monica woke up screaming.


	5. Interconnected

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman... sadly :(**

A/N: Chapter 4! hope you guys like it.

--

After two weeks of waiting, Monica was released from the hospital and sent on her way. Naturaloy, she quite her job with the bank. It was three days after that, that she decided that having money was, infact, a good thing and something of a nessescity. She set out to find a new job. The search had consumed the majority of her and had thus far it had had been rather unsuccessful. Even after hours searching for any non-bank-related job openings she had managed to find nothing.

Monica resolved to search the newspaper for anywhere new to apply. Preferably somewhere that didn't have a history of being gased, robbed or blown up. Her experience with the bank being robbed had thrown off her perception of what jobs could actually be considered safe. Having found nothing in the paper that interested her, she threw it out.

She sighed. "Life sucks." She mumbled as she trudged up the steps to her apartment. She opened the door, kicked off her shoes and droped her coat to the floor. She leaned back against a wall and sank to the floor. Her head fell into her hands as she strained to focus all her efforts on continuing to breathe. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She rubbed her palms against her as face as though she could force the tears back into her.

Her thoughts had wandered back, as they now often did, to the memory of standing beside The Joker. To the memory of fearing for her life. To the memories of the day that she had looked death in the eyes and death brushed his lips past hers and just laughed off what a lifetime might never heal for her. She remembered the way he laughed when her eyes had gone so wide at the sight of the knife, which he had held so close to her. Those were the things she remembered most, the fear, and the laughter. The grin of pure sadistic bliss, that The Joker had worn has he drove the blade through her flesh. She remembered the blood. She had seen it on the floor, on her hands, staining her shirt. It had been everyhere. And then...the world had gone black.

Monica stood up. Her eyes darted around the room in a panic. Her brain screeming, '_It was just a memory!! Calm down!!_'. She breathed deeply. She needed to go somewhere, to escape from herself. She got up and headed for the door.

"I'm going for a walk"

--

It had been just over two weeks since The Bank Of Gotham City had been terrorized by The Joker. In that time The Clown Prince of Crime had managed to accomplish next to nothing. N ot unlike the past two weeks, The Joker's day had thus far been rather uneventful.

He sighed. "Today's so...bleak" He pouted. He leaned back against a wall and sank to the floor, like a child who had just been put on time-out. His thoughts began to wander. He remebered the last time he'd had any fun. Two weeks ago he'd robbed a bank... now he could barely recall why. But he remembered all the other little things. Things that he thought no one else would ever remember, let alone even notice. He remembered standing beside that girl. He remember the fear in her eyes. He remembered that she looked at him as though she were seeing death himself. He remembered driving the blade through her flesh. And he remembered the blood. He had seen it on the floor, on his hands. It had been everywhere. And then... the end. The girl had fallen... but she hadn't died. No of course not. That blow wouldn't have killed her. Not if he had put the blade in the right place. '_The right place?_' Normally that would be the lethal blow, but not this time... He had let her live... because... because the girl had stood up to him... because she was just to much fun to rid of right away... too much fun...too much _fun!_

He stood up. His eyes darted around the room in a rush of excitment. He needed to get out. to go somewhere. To find someone. He got up and headed for the door.

"I'm going for a walk"


	6. A Walk In The Rain

**Disclaimer: I own Monica but that's it.**

A/N: Okay this is the last one that I'm posting today. Sorry for bombarding you guys with chapters like this but I've had most of these written since august so I had alot if material ready for posting XD

--

Monica walked slowly down the sidewalk. The sky was dark and her feet hurt but she still had twenty minutes of walking left to do before she would reach her apartment. Although she was in pain and it was past sundown and raining she feared going home. Walking had given her something to do. And when there had been other people on the streets she had been able to look at their faces and listen to their voices. She had imagined different stories about all of them; where they had come from; if they had families; what they did at work. Thinking about other people's lives had given her the chance to forget about her life. But now the people of Gotham had long since gone home and the streets were left empty, save for the few like Monica who had nowhere better to be.

Since the day that she had first met The Joker and especially since she had been discharged from the hospital, Monica's life had gone to hell. She had given up the job that she loved and developed a paranoia that had handicapped her from finding a new one. A paranoia that was destroying ripping her apart for the fact that she was outside and alone at night. Although between the pepper-spray in her pocket and the blade that she had bought the day she was discharged which was now tucked into the top of her boot, she felt safe enough to not have a breakdown in the middle of the street.

The wind was heavy and cold and it blew Monica's rain-drenched hair into her eyes. She brushed it aside but it only blew back into the same disheveled state that it had been in before. She sighed and pulled an elastic from her pocket. She paused in front of a store window where she gazed at her reflection in the glass as she adjusted her hair. Her eyes wandered over the image of the girl before her. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Pretty, but average. She wore a purple jacket and blue jeans whish did little to protect her from the harsh wind and rain. In summary, she was short, cute, messy and wet.

Monica kept walking. Her hands were cold and her feet were wet and she begun to look forward to getting home. What she would do when she got there, she didn't know. Sleep, maybe? No, she had nightmares every night. Mostly she reamed about her memories. The that she had had on first night of her hospital stay liked to repeat itself every night, without fail. But there was another dream that had haunted her lately, on the nights that she fell back asleep after waking from one of her nightmares. Although it wasn't exactly a memory...

_It would start off with her walking down the isle. She would look around and see her family and friends. She would be perfectly happy. And at the end of the isle was Darren. Sweet, beautiful, loveable, affectionate, Darren. The love of her life. The man who she had been certain that she would marry. They had dated all through high school. They been madly in love. And then in real life just as in her dream, it had ended. She would reach the end if the isle and she would reach for his hand and then... she couldn't recall what happened next. Just. Like. Real. Life. The next thing she knew, her life had turned to chaos. The last thing that she remember was Darren staring at her with cold unfeeling eyes. Then his eyes went completely dead and the fabric of the dream shattered and shards of glass were sent flying in every direction._

Then she would wake up.

Monica rubbed the fingers of her left hand trying to forget although she knew she never would. Though the exact events from her dream had never really happened, she understood exactly what they were supposed to remind her of and the scars across the top of her hand were permanent reminders.

At age twenty-four, Monica had learned to cope with the memories of her boyfriend's suicide. However, six years ago was a completely different matter. Monica had punched a mirror in a fit of rage and denial and then spent almost a week in the hospital when one of the shards had pierced a vital artery in her wrist. Now an array of darkly colored scars decorated the back if her hand.

Monica shuddered. Whether it was from the cold wind or the dark memory, even she wasn't sure. She quickened her pace when her apartment complex came into view. She was close and soon she would be out of the cold night and safely at home enduring a completely different type of suffering. Maybe she wouldn't sleep tonight, she thought to herself. Or maybe she wouldn't dream, she added hopefully. But she knew that she would.

She was walking past an empty lot and a group of men stood some distance away. She tried to think not about the situation; young girl out at night and all alone with a group of men watching her. Her fingers curled tightly around the pepper-spray in her pocket.

Monica didn't need to look up to know that she was being watched; she could feel several pairs of eyes watching her, all which told tales of malintent. But she did look up and when she did she saw that not only were they watching her but they were also moving slowly across the lot towards her. She quickened her pace the point where she almost jogging. The men sped up too.

"Why, _hello_, pretty thing!" One of the men called out to her. "What's a young girl like you doing out all alone at this hour?" called another one.

Monica broke into a run. She could hear the men behind her laughing but wasn't sure if they had run after her. She turned her head to check if they had followed, but when she did, she fell off balance and was sent crashing to the ground. She heard someone laughing, much closer than before. She didn't look up to see who was there. She reached for the blade in her boot, forgetting the spray which had flown from her hand when she fell. She gripped tight to the blade as a pair of filthy hands grabbed her arms and dragged her up from the ground.

"Hello," said the voice of the thug.

Monica twisted around in his grip and slashed wildly at him. He screamed and let go of her as the blade ripped through his flesh. Another one came after her and got the same treatment as the first. The she heard a sound. It was loud. _Very_ loud.

Everything seemed strange for a moment, as though reality had contorted. She thought it was so strange that she could hear the soft 'clink' of the blade as it hit the pavement and the sound of someone's footsteps coming towards her. She even heard the gunshot as it rang out in the night. But she didn't hear herself scream until long after she had stopped screaming. The she noticed the strangest thing, though, as her head collided with the side the sidewalk; There was only one person still laughing as she fell and his voice seemed so familiar...


	7. A matter of luck, Or was it fate?

Dsclaimer: You _know _I don't own him, so is there even a point?

AN: Sorry this took so long to get finished!! Hopefully in the future i won't end up making you guys wait so long.

Also, Thanks to _everyone_ who reviewed. I love you guys:) Thanks, especialy to MonMaskedAnge, for the advice on the flashbacks. That one really helped. I didn't even notice! Thanks again, to _all_ the people who reviewed! I hope you like this one!

--

It wasn't exactly classified information that the murderous Joker was free. All of the residence of Gotham City were fully aware that some where in the darkness of the nighttime streets, the menacing killer was prowling and ready to strike. They knew it and he knew that they knew it and because of this he couldn't help but laugh as he strolled down the dark and stormy streets and wondered, just what would the city's inhabitance do if they knew just how close-by he was.

The Clown Prince Of Crime walked the empty, rain-drenched streets of Gotham, paying no mind to where he was headed. It was raining quite hard that night and the sky seemed especially dark, so anyone who had not been deterred by the heavy rain, _was_ deterred by this night being a seeming perfect opportunity for crime. Not to say that they were wrong to fear, for indeed it was a perfect opportunity for crime and Crime was exactly what The Joker had on his mind. And so it happened, that by a matter of pure luck, (Or it could have been fate?), that the streets of Gotham were left empty on that fateful night and The Joker was free to wander about in the rain, far from the reach of prying eyes.

He had no plan in place that would help him reach his goal, but planning was not something he was accustom to. Moreover, he was hardly certain of what his goal even was. He knew enough to say that it involved that young girl from the bank. The thought had occurred to him to perhaps pay another visit to the bank, on a smaller scale this time, and say hello. The next thought that occurred to him was that he couldn't guarantee that she still worked there. Would she even have been released from the hospital at this point? Or even be alive? He shrugged the thoughts off and continued to walk. Where was he even going?

He lifted his eyes up from the wet asphalt which he had been staring at for quite some time and scanned the world around him. Something caught his eye. He saw a woman walking through the rain. From what he could tell she was short and blonde, nothing out of the ordinary, but that was all that he could see. The heavy rain, the distance that separated them and the lack of proper illumination prevented him from seeing any of her distinguishing features.

If she had any idea of the horror that walked opposite her, just out of the reach of the artificial illumination of the streetlights, she would have turned and run from him already. Just as this thought occurred to him the girl did begin to run, as if on command. Only one slight flaw was present in this scenario; she was running in his direction. Ok, so not exactly what he had meant, but either way, this should still be interesting. Then he saw a group of a bout four of men begin to chase after her.

"Ooooooh! Definitely interesting," he said aloud to himself.

He watched the girl run. She ran straight under the light of one of the street lamps and for the first time he saw her face and it was a mask of perfect horror. Fear was evident in every move she made. And once again, by a matter of luck, (Or maybe it was fate...), he recognized her. The fear in her was what he recognized first. And then everything fell into place.

He walked towards her at a quickened pace, his eyes on her the whole time. She fell. She was lifted back up. She was thrashing wildly with a blade in her hand. He began to wonder if she had a chance on her own. And then he heard the gunshot.

He was no more then three yards away at most, standing in the shadows, and if she had seen him at all, it wouldn't matter soon. The shot couldn't possibly kill her, the bullet having only grazed her arm. It had, however, taken out a decent sized chunk of flesh and it bled quite noticeably. The fall she had taken in response to the shot definitely couldn't have helped either.

It had only taken him only a few quick strides to come close enough to tell that she was definitely out-cold. After that he needed only take on more step and pull out a switch blade to start-up the fun, once more.


End file.
